


Băutură

by murakistags



Series: Hannibal Cre-Ate-Ive Prompts [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: #DrunkenKissesChallenge, Alcohol, DrunkenKissesChallenge, Established Relationship, Hannigram - Freeform, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Post-Season/Series 03, Rough Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 21:11:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7238641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/murakistags/pseuds/murakistags
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“All things considered, the man really shouldn't taste as delicious as he truly does in that moment. Sloppy and rude inebriation seeps from every pore, and bitter whiskey dances on that tongue. Nevertheless, Hannibal finds that a drunken Will is quite delectable indeed.”</p><p>Written for Hannibal Cre-Ate-Ive's #DrunkenKissesChallenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Băutură

**Author's Note:**

> Cre-Ate-Ive's challenges and prompts really do get the creative juices flowing. …Or maybe I'm just a hopeless sucker for any excuse to write Hannigram, as usual. Oops.
> 
> Bon appétit.

All things considered, the man _really_ shouldn't taste as delicious as he truly does in that moment. Sloppy and rude inebriation seeps from every pore, and bitter whiskey dances on that tongue. Nevertheless, Hannibal finds that a drunken Will is quite delectable indeed.

An unlocked liquor cabinet has been the most frequently visited of hall his stock lately. Hannibal doesn't complain, but rather watches on in interest, continues to allow the habit to happen, restocking with bottles every so often. Mostly small crystal glasses are to be used in the hands of his companion, but occasionally Hannibal can't deny it's a lovely look to see Will holding the long stem of an expensive wine glass. To each their own palate, he supposes– after all, Will had certainly been generous enough in eventually accepting of his unusual tastes.

Tonight, however, Hannibal certainly isn't in the mood for whiskey. Will inquires once, twice, in vain, and then instead takes to drinking in lonely silence as he does most often in the Lecter-Graham's shared Romanian home. Out on the small veranda tucked away at the eastern corner of the airy two-story, the flourishing summer night wind licks at Will's skin, making a mess of curly chocolate strands. When Hannibal approaches into the cool breeze, he mentally remarks that it's a scene surreal, seeing Will standing there against the black ironwork railings, filled glass in hand, half-empty decanter at his feet, and a smog of moonlight around him that looks strangely preternatural.

Both men cannot quite recall with any accuracy how the rim of glass at Will's mouth was soon replaced by Dr. Hannibal Lecter's lips. The doctor in question hadn't been the one to initiate– this much he knows, at least. In contrast to the empath trapping him against the smooth and cold stone wall, there is not a single droplet of alcohol in Hannibal's body this evening, and yet a strangely drunken feeling overpowers him.

The kiss is sloppy on Will's end, full of teeth-clacking passion and wanton sucking, and Hannibal complies. It isn't neat, not at all customary or familiar, and it sets both men ablaze with hot lust. Needy noises escape Will's lips, the stubble of his jaw grazing the smooth skin on the doctor's face, unrelenting in assault. Tongues grind hard, and hips grind harder. Rutting harshly against Hannibal brings two loud groans echoing in-sync, fluttering out like the tree leaves rocking with flowing evening air. Vaguely Hannibal registers the quiet thud of decanter toppling sideways at their feet, spilling expensive alcohol onto the veranda floor.

A mess, all of it. An impassioned, needy mess.

Suit lapels are crinkled beneath a firm grasp, the silky locks of the younger man are tautly pulled in two hands surgically skilled, and both men devour one another entirely. Heads tilted, every second affords the open summer night a sultry view of shadows, the panting puffs of breath they share together. A mewl erupts from one of the two men, startling the trickles of milky moonlight on their skin, and is quickly answered with a growl almost animalistic and dangerously terse. Their clothed cocks grow stiff and find a pleasurable pace in rubbing hips to one another, grinding and thrusting forward with every renewed gasp and suck of drunken kiss.

Somewhere in the scuffle, Hannibal finds his head slammed back against the stone wall with an unforgiving tug, and it sends a pain shooting to his temples. It is a brief uncomfortable feeling that is barely registered, but the sight before him…now _that_ is one to be recorded in his memory palace forever. Will Graham has tilted his head back to expose all of his throat beneath that dark stubble, far lost in the throes of pleasure too wild, heated all the more by the whiskey burning in his belly. Hannibal Lecter exhales softly at the sight, and leans in to latch lips to a bobbing Adam's apple, sucking to the tender skin hotly as they shift and grind together, his entire body trapped in the confined space.

As the doctor drags his sharp, pearly teeth down the length of Will's throat that vibrates with one uninhibited moan after another, he distantly notes to purchase more of this brand of whiskey in particular. Perhaps, next time, he will give it a taste himself.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked it, don't forget to leave kudos and comments. They inspire me and make me smile.
> 
> Please consider [buying me a coffee for a fic](https://ko-fi.com/murakistags)!


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